My scars were reflecting the mist in your headlights I looked like a neon zebra, shaking rain off her stripes

I've done things that can be made fun of. It's not such a bad thing. If I'm going to end up a role model, then I'd rather not end up being the kind of role model that pretends to be perfect, and pretends that she always has the right thing to say. I'm a product of role models that didn't make me feel like I was as good as them.

I still don't know how to drive. I don't go anywhere, really. My brother drives me. I walk around my neighborhood but I don't go anywhere, nor do I want to.

I really believe in completely being naive and having high hopes when meeting someone new. I can kind of re-do my stupidity or my naivete.

I'd say that I've been reclusive the last 34 years. That was my big thing as a kid, staying home from school. I've trained myself to be psychosomatically sick a lot. Anytime I go out, it is just something to deal with, even walking to the grocery store. If I'm supposed to go from one place to another place that isn't that comfortable, I usually don't go.

It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.

Dreams can be deceiving, like faces are to hearts.